


You just Need One

by AliNear



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, M/M, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, The Family Fails at being a Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 10:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21117443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliNear/pseuds/AliNear
Summary: They didn't mean to push Klaus away.or forget about him.or actively avoid him.But they did.With Ben alive and Five still here the timelines already messed up, what does it matter if one more thing changes, if one more person interferes. After all, they only stepped in to save a klau- kid.





	1. Chapter 1

It was to early to be up, Ed had decided even as he slushily changed his pajama shorts in for jeans and grabbed his bookbag, nearly stumbling under the weight of his textbooks. His eyes lazily stared at his clock as he debated if he had enough time for breakfast before he drove to the college.

Sliding into his seat at the table, he pulled a paper plate closer, loading up on cheese eggs and toast, nodding a silent greeting to his stepmother. She smiled back, lifting her mug of coffee before her focus went back towards the newspaper in her hands. The front door swung open with a bang and muttered grumbling as dirty boots were kicked off and his father came in, dropping his thermos on the counter as he grabbed at the Star Wars coffee mug instead.

Ed watched his father grumble and pace, rubbing his neck as he slammed his coffee down against their oak tabletop. His gray and white hair was standing straight up from him pulling at it and his clothes were rather dirty and disheveled like he had run in his jeans and jacket vest.

“Er… Dad?” he asked, eyes darting to his stepmother who was watching her husband just as confused.

“Again!” He shouted, making Ed jump, “This is the fifth time this month someone has broken into the crypt!”

“What?”

“For years someone has been breaking into the crypt, since ‘96! Lately it has gotten more and more recent, I don’t know what the bastard is doing but…” his father’s hazels eyes were sharp, “I tried to get up early and catch him but nothing!”

Chewing on his toast he watched his father’s face get red with frustration and rage, “I can try and install a camera?” he offered, “Hook it up to the PC and catch they guy.”

Before the conversation continued his eyes caught the time, “Aw shit, gonna be late. Dad, don’t worry about, I’ll grab stuff on my way home!” He shouted, dancing around his dad as he slipped through the front door, hand pressing the key fobs unlock button rapidly as he made his way into the car.

Klaus sobbed. He sobbed and hiccuped as he lost his breath.

They had time traveled to 2002 but now three years later Klaus was still shoved and forced to his breaking point. He was nearly 15 (33?) but he was reduced to a sobbing mess on the cold concrete ground, curling himself up as far as he could go. His legs, still growing, ached fiercely from this position but he knew that if he moved, he’d just be making a large target.

It had been three years and they were a family. Vanya was training with Five and Allison almost every day. Luther had been given books about abuse. Diego was talking instead of trying to stab everyone. Ben.

Ben was alive.

Eating and exploring the city not tethered to Klaus.

They were a family.

They were a family, but Klaus didn’t seem to be in the picture.

Each sibling to interested in each other to watch Klaus slowly self-destruct again, slowly, much slower than last time as he tried desperately to reach out for his siblings, to get the help and attention he needs- he just didn’t want to be so cold anymore.

The goosebumps rose across his arms and made his neck prickle as the temperature dropped; his fingers gripped savagely into his shoulder creating an ache even as he dug them in deeper.

_Distraction duty, _they’d say, shooing him away so they could sneak out, so Vanya could train, so they could have a day free of Reginald.

The wailing got louder, and he knew it was only a matter of time. With hiss new power of bringing life to the dead, Reginald had tightened his leash, caging Klaus in Vanya’s soundproof cell outside of meals, missions, and training, forcing him into sobriety. He had tried for so long when they got back, but days turned to weeks and then months passed as he got more powerful and his siblings turned him away and then-

A hand reached out, large and bloody curling dirty and cracked nails into his curls. Yanking his head back as another hand, smaller dainty scratched across his cheek, the woman screaming in his ear as she did so.

He fell hard, so hard, but Reginald had watched where his siblings hadn’t. His prion sentence was almost a year and a half old now, yay. He thought rather savagely, as another spirit pulled at his leg, ripping the pant as he did so.

He would die again tonight. Just like he had done every night since his power grew stronger. He prayed and hoped that little girl god would let him spend the rest of the night there, protected in the afterlife until the early morning hours, she let him stay sometimes.

He closed his eyes once he felt them lift his head and slam it back down, feeling the blood coat him. He didn’t see the door fly open and the flashing of red and blue police lights illuminate his cell, nor did he see the police file in. He flinched back as the bag of guns echoed in the small area as officers fought their way through the dead. He did not open his eyes as he was lifted up onto a stretcher and rushed out of the cemetery. He kept his eyes closed through all of it, thinking of a mop of blond curls and kind eyes offering him a hand. His lips curled up into a broken smile as his love whispered in his ear.

“You’re okay now.”

Ed was expecting a lot of things when he had set up the camera. Mostly people trying to get lucky, have some really weird sex in a tomb, children giving each other dares not- not one of the most famous men, the monocle the billionaire, inventor, friend of dozens of countries leaders, throwing one of his six children down the step and locking the door behind him wasn’t anywhere on his list. He watched open mouth of the kid- the Séance, he must have been- curl in on himself even as his hands lit up blue. His breath was stolen from him as he saw figures, dis formed, injured, dead figures clawing and screaming and beating the boy stuck in their tomb.

His hands shook as he dialed the numbed, grabbing his school flash drive to save the video, he dazedly spoke over the phone.

“I need an ambulance and police officers at Hollow’s cemetery on fifth. It’s- it’s hard to explain…”


	2. Chapter 2

“Klaus?” Detective Patch called, gently pulling the door closed behind him, his brown eyes were sad as he looked at the teenager- no- the child on the bed thinking of his own daughter, just a year older than the boy, sitting at home waiting for him. he always thought of his daughter when he faced children, but this one sends a sharp pain in chest, as the thin boy looked years younger in the bed as he was dwarfed so significantly by the hospital bed.

The boy in the bed moved sluggishly, green eyes blinking slowly as he peered around the room before landing on him. The bandages that covered him nearly blending in with his pale skin and the white of the sheets. He had tubes, liquid and sugar, the nurses and doctors speaking lowly of dietary plans as it was discovered the boy was badly malnourished and hadn’t eaten in days.

_His father was a billionaire, _Patch thought angrily, _and he couldn’t even feed his kids?_

Klaus jerkily brought a hand up and waved slowly, blinking up at him with a smile. Striding across the room, Patch settled himself into the chair to the right of the bed, hand clicking the pen top as he brought out his note pad.

“Hello Klaus, my name’s Detective Patch.” He introduced himself easily enough, waiting as the boy’s eyes darted around the room, staring intently at the corner before focusing back on him. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Daddy dearest locked me in the mausoleum again,” he told him in a sing song voice, bitter smile making his eyes look sharp, “and you shouldn’t lock you kid’s up.” He said in mock seriousness, waving a finger at him.

Patch held back a flinch at those words, even as the boy broke into giggles.

“Has he locked you in there before?”

“Hmh, he takes me there all the time, since… since I was seven.”

Inhaling sharply, he couldn’t help he tremors that ran down his arms. He had told the police chief something was wrong with the academy, putting children in the line of fire, putting children out in place of officers. They had training, he remembered the mayor telling them, superpower, he chastised. Child soldiers, Patch had sneered to his wife. But what good were soldiers when you starved them? when you tortured them to the breaking point? Patch seethed, as Klaus curled his legs up, setting his chin on his kneels as he rocked.

“Do you know why he sent you there?”

“Training, gotta, gotta get over my fear of the dead. Daddy says it’s not productive to be scared of them.” his eyes darted to his right, focusing on something Patch couldn’t see.

He shivered, remembering the video of the dead crawling forth and sinking blunt nails into the flesh of the child in front of him.

“But the dead are so mad,” he told him, voice going small, “Jealous because I’m not dead. They hate me. You shouldn’t have taken me out of the mausoleum, he’s going to get mad.”

“Klaus,” he stood leaning over to place a hand, so incredible big, on a boney shoulder, “I, swear, on my badge and my daughter, you are not stepping into that house while he is there.”

A thin smile spreads across his lips as a pair of green eyes focus and stare into his own brown, searching even as he lets out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Money buy’s anything Detective… after all, it bought seven of us.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THERE ISN’T ENOGUH EVIDENCE? WE HAVE A GODAMN VIDEO OF HIS SHOVING HIS KID INTO A CRYPT!” Patch yelled, face red as he slammed his hands against the desk.

The building was silent as officers deliberately looked away, some shamed faced as they scurried into other rooms but the majority simply ignoring the words escaping the detective’s mouth.

But the man kept a neutral face, “Exactly as I said, we have no evidence that says Reginald Hargreeves is a danger to those children, we cannot take them away. Those children,” he nearly hissed, “are super powered, we have no reason to believe this is not what is best for them.”

“That boy crashed, twice, his heart stopped beating because of where his father sent him. He is severally underweight and-“

“And you will drop this case.”

“But-“

“Drop it.”

Snarling Patch stormed out of the building. Cursing and foaming, he made his way down the street, stomping as he kept a steady stream of curses.

He feet lead him back home, having walked nearly a half hour to get there. He stared up at the building, the building he had raised his daughter in and watched her blossom and grow into a beautiful and confident young woman. He stomach burned and bubbled as he thought of the haunted look in Klaus’ eyes, the knowing words that he had parted with.

“Honey?” a familiar voice called out, as a hand laid itself on his shoulder.

His wife stood besides him in front of their apartment door, looking concerned at his sweating form and red face.

“You’re home early.”

Pursing his lips out he spoke softly to her, “I need your help making a decision.”

Narrowing her eyes, she nodded, before turning to lead him inside. They walked up the three flights of stairs in silence, they unlocked and walked into their apartment in silence. He sat heavily at a kitchen table as she fused, getting him a glass of water before looking at the time.

“You have a little under an hour before Eudora comes home from soccer practice.” She observed, leaning against the counter as she side eyed him.

He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back. “I have a case. I know I never bring work home, never want you or Dora to see what I have to deal with but… the case, it’s about a billionaire’s son, just a year younger than our Dora.”

He ignored her jerk of surprise as he plowed on, “We have evidence, we have the whole thing on tape! But the Chief, he’s trying to burry it, saying we can’t interfere or pull the boy out of the house. I- I don’t know what to do.”

Her hand slides up, curling into her hair as she thought, “He is in danger?”

“His heart stopped twice, once in the ambulance and once in the hospital.” He repeated the fact blandly, trying not to thing of how easily that thin chest must have caved under the CPR.

“You said you have a video?”

“Yes, it’s all on tape.”

“Do… do you have access to the tapes?”

He titled his head, turning to face her as she thought.

“Make copies,” she told him seriously, “Make copies and send them to every news station, hell upload them online. If you can not save him, let the world judge his father.” She hissed.

“I could lose my job; they’ll know it’s me.”

She nodded, “You once told me you wanted to be an officer to protect the people.” walking around the counter she stepped up behind him, curling her arms around his shoulders to hug his head close to her chest. “We can survive off my job and our savings until you find something else.”

His hand trailed up, meeting her own as she hummed.

“How are you going to get the tapes?” she whispered.

“The boy that reported the crime, he has the camera. I’ll head to their place first, see if they made a copy.”

She leaned down to kiss his forehead, whispering as she did, “If you leave now, it might make the 11 o’clock news.”

Patch stood at the house beside the cemetery, back stiff as he brought his hand up to knock. It was a small house, and rather quaint for the city, looking more like something from a picture or puzzle then what would be smack dab in the middle of the city.

The door opened and a mop of blond curls and hazel eyes stared back at him.

“Edmund Katz?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Mama?” Eudora peered at her mother, wondering why their apartment felt so tense.

She had woken up to her alarm nearly an hour ago, rolling over in her bed she had waited for the tell-tale sound of the thuds of her father’s boots as he got out of the bathroom from his morning shower. Sharing a bathroom with three people, while annoying, was doable if timed right. But a minute passed and then fifteen, and Eudora tried to remember if her father had said anything about having the day off. Rolling off her bed, her eyes danced around the hall, taking in the lights off in the bathroom and her parents’ room before making her way towards the kitchen.

Her mother sat at the table, staring at the surface like it would spontaneously change colors, her hands clutched a San Francisco her Uncle had sent her years ago. Her hair wasn’t brushed but instead sat in a ponytail with lose strands flying everywhere, she wasn’t dressed instead in the pink Winnie the Pooh night gown she had gotten as a teenager.

“Mama?” she peered at her mother, wondering why the air was thick and everything felt like the bubbling climax of a movie- she half expected someone to pop up saying “You! You murdered the Sylvester!”

“Oh, Dora” she glanced up in surprise, her dark eyes glancing up at her. For a moment she stared and stare before turning in her seat and opening up her arms.

Stepping forward Dora fell into her mother’s arm, wrapping her own across the soft part of her mother’s stomach and placing her head in her shoulder.

“Is- did something happen to Dad?”

“No, oh no honey.” She whispered, patting down Dora’s hair, “Things are just going to be a little hard for a while, but your father is okay, we’re okay.” Kissing her forehead, she couldn’t help but whisper “We’ll be okay.” Over and over.

The News aired that night and again in the morning, it was online and in newspapers. The video of Reginald Hargreeves nearly murdering a boy that was supposed to be his son. A few hours after the morning report on it the medical files and ‘birth certificate’ naming the boy as _Four_. It spread and consumed the media like wildfires, talk shows host and guest stars discussed the issue, people who had previously sided or were friends with Reginald shook their head and swore they didn’t know and those poor, poor, children.

The second the news hit the TV, at 11 o’clock at night, FBI vans with men in full SWAT gear rolled up towards the mansion like house. Pulling out the other 6 children, a strange robotic woman, Reginald in hand cuffs, and oddly enough a monkey.

That morning everyone woke up to the news that they failed their heroes. Parents around the world would hold their children tight and watch as the 13-year-olds walked out of their home with matching pajamas, a sixth unknown girl in the same pair, their eyes were sharp, alert, and untrusting as they were escorted away. Many would whisper how they looked like war veterans more then the children they were.

Some station would keep their camera panned on the children, even as Six- the horror- turned and asked the officers were his brother was. That please, he likes to take long baths and doesn’t like being alone so make sure to check the bathrooms. The Kraken had leaned over, his eyes trained on their guns as he reminded them, “We’ve been trained to take down people bigger than us, _Four always goes for the eyes.”_ His teeth sharp as he smiled wickedly at them.

The news camera had steadily watched the car go off with the children before it began to report on what was known about the billionaire and the children he adopted.

Some mothers would clutch their miracle babies close, remembering the old man ad the offer of thousands for their children and thank heavens they had turn the offer down.

Five mothers would weep, eyes straying towards their children and husbands as they thought of the babies they gave up. Trying vainly to remind themselves that they had no way of knowing anything would happen to the unexpected child.

Klaus would watch from his hospital bed, stunned into silence, before his siblings came barreling in. Ben wasting no time in joining him on the bed as the others circled around the room, looking at his bandages and wires hooking him up to a heart monitor with guilt.

They would hug and cry, curling into each other as they whispered apologies. And sitting on the hospital bed of the brother they almost lost- _they had just become seven again and their number almost went down-_ that the children finally relaxed.

“So,” Ben trailed off, tucking Klaus closer to his side, “What do we do now?”

Five paused, a spoon full of Klaus orange Jell-O still in his mouth as he shrugged, “Hell if I know, the timelines screwed.”

“Oh cool, cool, and if they try and separate us?”

Five leveled a glare, “I can teleport, and apparently bring people with me. Let. Them. Try.”

“Aw, Fivey cares.” Klaus cooed.

There was a beat of silence before Vanya snorted, the apple juice- also Klaus’- spilling from her nose before the rest of them laughed. And if Five leaves and comes back with two boxes of Griddy’s donuts, (One Entire box filled with Klaus’ favorite) well… it was strangely a good day.


End file.
